Stronger Now Than We Were Before
by AceCade
Summary: Jake had no idea that McKinley would introduce him to all this… mess. It all starts with his audition that has Blaine crying and fleeing from the auditorium. Jake finds out why. The two begin to heal. (Off-screen character death. Plaine. Blake Panderson-friendship)


**Here's the deal:** The very wonderful Devika (flyinseacrest) on Tumblr decided to write me a Blaine x Puckerbros ficlet per my request. I wanted more and she told me to continue it, and I couldn't say no. So this is continuing from Together All The While. I highly recommend reading that first. I guess if you really don't want to this could stand alone. BUT PLEASE DO READ IT. It will explain some background stuff.

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* * *

**Stronger Now Than We Were Before**

* * *

There was a reason why Jake Puckerman had purposely left his last name off of the audition form and insisted to Mr. Schuester that he was "Just Jake."

Jake had grown up with his surname being a burden. The old ladies in town would whisper about him and give him looks of pity. He was always "that Puckerman boy" with the "dead beat father" who had a "juvenile delinquent" for an older half-brother.

That's all anyone ever saw when they looked at him, so it was almost easy to just play into it. That was until he got kicked out of his high school with three weeks to spare until summer. Jake had been expelled from three schools in the span of his freshman year. His mom threatened to kick him out to the streets if he screwed up this last chance.

The last chance: McKinley High in Lima, Ohio; former school of his half-brother, Noah Puckerman.

Jake didn't want to put any more stress on his mother. He only acted out because it was expected of him. It was so easy (especially with his temper that he inherited from his father). But, over the summer, he had seen his mother crying in the living room when she thought he was sleeping. She had to work two and a half jobs in order to keep food on the table, the bills paid, and to provide Jake with a comfortable life. He heard her blaming his no-good father that he hadn't seen since his fifth birthday when he had taken Jake to a Cleveland Browns game. He had also heard her complain over the phone to one of her friends about how Jake was starting to become so out of control that she didn't know if she could handle it much longer.

Seeing his mother—the woman that would do anything for him, the strongest woman he would probably ever know, the woman who put on such a brave face that Jake himself modeled his from—break down so completely, crying with her head in her hands with a letter of notice from the police with probably another fine that she would have to pay on his behalf, really got to Jake.

He needed to change.

And so began the plan of staying under the radar at McKinley High.

He wouldn't disclose his name to anyone until it was absolutely necessary. Noah had only graduated the year before, so his reputation still laid heavily in everyone's minds, saturated into the very halls that he now walked in.

He would continue to be "Just Jake" for as long as possible. He would just be a new kid, an incoming sophomore from a different school. He would be "Just Jake" and build a new image, one that didn't extend from his father or his half-brother before him. He decided to join Glee club, a nerdy thing, to try to stay away from the jocks that probably knew his brother.

Only, he forgot that Noah had been in Glee club too.

His had signed his name and practiced _Never Say Never _by The Fray way into the night while his mom worked the graveyard shift at Breadstix. It wasn't until the next day that he remembered his mother saying in passing that she had read Noah's name in the paper for something good, for winning Nationals for the Glee club last year. He could always blow off the audition, but he quickly shot that thought down.

He was going to do it. Maybe he wouldn't even make it into the club because after looking up the club's performances on YouTube, the kids were good. He probably didn't even stand a chance anyway, but he put his heart and soul into practicing his song, and he had to admit that it was pretty perfect. But it didn't hurt to try.

He walked on to the stage when it was his turn, having a confidence boost after watching the train wrecks that shouldn't even be called auditions play out before him. He stepped up to the microphone, hands in his pockets, and tried to stay cool. He looked nothing like Noah (having taken more of his mother's features while Noah took after their father if the pictures over the years were anything to go by), so no one would probably even question him about the possible relation. He was safe, right?

"I'm Jake." The dude that apparently ran the club, being the only adult in the audience seats, asked if he had a last name. Jake hunched his shoulders a bit, shaking his head. "Uh… just Jake." The teacher took it, nodding to him and telling him to show them what he's got.

Jake took a breath, closing his eyes, and began to sing like he had practiced, only better. He threw himself into the song, feeling the words as they flowed from his lips. His eyes scanned his audience, his potential future team members. He took care to gauge everyone's reaction. Everyone seemed to be enjoying it. The girls were all enthralled; he even managed to get some of the guys too. There was one person in particular that had a surprising reaction, though.

Jake frowned a little, closing his eyes and faking that he was just having difficulty hitting the high note. But, as he looked up again to the guy, sitting between the coiffed-haired pale boy and the bleached blond guy in the green hoodie, with the striped shirt to see him—_was he crying?_

Jake looked at him a little closer, and the boy sure was. Huh, what the hell was that all about? Jake wasn't that good to produce tears, was he? No, the gelled boy had his face scrunched up a little, trying to keep himself composed. That wasn't a "crying because of beauty" thing. He was deeply hurt, and Jake really had no idea why. It baffled him though, but he kept singing, managing to keep cool throughout the whole thing.

He had unintentionally locked his attention onto the crying boy as the song came to a close. He could hear the applause from the people in the seats. He could hear the teacher tell him that he did very well and that he would know the next day if he had made it. The boy was the last one to join in on the applause, having given his body a tiny shake as he discreetly wiped the moisture from his cheeks, then finally bringing his hands together in a polite applause.

He looked up, just as Jake said a polite "thank you" and nodded to the teacher. The two locked eyes and Jake gave him a small smile that made the boy's face crumble slightly. Jake took one step back, and then, just before he turned, the boy was sprinting out of the auditorium. Jake kind of stood there dumbfounded, but then he turned to go backstage as the coiffed-haired boy ran after the other boy.

_Well, that was really, really weird_.

* * *

The list for the auditionees that made the cut was posted the next day.

Jake's name was absent. Pissed, he stormed off down the hall and fumed through all of his classes. He sat in the back of each one, put his hood up, and glared out the window. The teachers that knew about his surname just left him be. Those unfortunate souls that didn't make the connection tried to engage him in class, but once he snapped back they left him be, too. This continued until Spanish class, where the teacher from the Glee club—now introduced as Mr. Schuester—told him to stay after class so he could talk to him.

Jake sullenly sunk in his chair, turning steely eyes on his teacher when the classroom emptied. Mr. Schue walked down the row that he was in and perched himself on the desk in front of the sullen teenager. He had a folder in his hand. It didn't take much for Jake to guess what it was.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?" Jake asked roughly, looking up at Schue before averting his eyes. The kid was obviously fuming and Schue knew it was towards him.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about your audition—" Jake scoffed, cutting him off.

"Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that song? I was up for three nights getting it right. I put my all into that performance. And, if the reactions of the people in that audience were anything to go by, I did very well," Jake snapped at the teacher, leaning forward in his seat as he turned his steely gaze up at Schue. They both decided not to bring up the boy who had rushed out at the end.

"A lot of people worked hard for their audition. Some make the cut and some don't. I haven't made all the final cuts yet; those were just the ones that had a definite in." Schue paused, crossing his arms and leaning back a little on the desk. "Now, I was on the fence with you. You're great, singing-wise, but seeing you today, with your attitude—"

Jake cut him off, snarling, "So I'm angry, I got a right to be. You don't know me; you don't know my life."

"I knew your brother, Jake," Schue deadpanned. He now slapped the folder onto the desk. Jake stilled, his eyes landing on the folder. He cocked his head a bit to read the label on the folder: JACOB IAN PUCKERMAN. "Puckerman," Schue added.

"Oh, good, now you know my secret," Jake said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. His hood was still up; covering his forehead and making his face look even darker than his mood. "But, he was only my half-brother. Our dad was like an NBA player, there could be about fifty other little Puckermans running around for all I know."

"No one ever mentioned anything about him having a brother."

Jake stood up abruptly. "Yeah, well, he doesn't know. And before you say anything, I am_ not_ like him." He turned to the window, palms resting on the radiator in front of them. "And I never will be," he said more to himself than Schue, but the teacher heard him none-the-less.

"You're right," Schue said with a sigh. "You're not. You know why? Because Noah Puckerman is dead." _Yeah, really dick move there, Schue. _It wasn't his place, but someone needs to get through to this kid.

Jake turned around so fast Will almost got whiplash. "What did you just say?" Jake said in a dangerously calm and low voice. It was chilling.

_Oh, shit, he didn't know_. When Jake said that he knew he had a brother but that Puck didn't know about him, Schue just assumed that Jake would know. He just assumed that Jake would have heard that his own brother had died by now. Oh, fuck, Schue had overstepped his bounds once again. He needed to handle this carefully before he had another Puckerman blow-up on his hands, which was so fucking understandable because the kid just found out that his brother was _dead_.

A brother that didn't even know that he had a brother.

A brother that didn't even know that Jake _existed_.

Well, this was just totally fucked up any way you looked at it.

"I said that your brother is dead," Schue said shakily, seeing Jake's eyes flash and his fists curling at his sides. "Look, Jake, I am so sorry you had to find out this way. I really thought that you knew." _No matter what, Schue, you shouldn't have even said it._Too late now.

"Well, I didn't." Jake glared at him, and Schue had to admit that Jake had perfected the Puckerman glare even more than his brother. Jake looked absolutely on the edge of blowing, a feral animal caught in a corner trying to claw his way out.

"How'd it happen?" Jake asked so softly that Schue almost didn't hear him. It was scary how void of emotion Jake's voice was, but how full of anger his body seemed to be.

"Motorbike accident," Schue supplied, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "About three weeks before he would have graduated."

Jake froze, his jaw dropping open a little as his eyes widened. Three weeks before graduation. That was the same time that Jake had gotten expelled. He remembered waking up in a rageful mood and not knowing why. He remembered snapping at any teacher that tried to talk to him. He remembered picking a fight with the dumb jock in the locker room after gym class because of a dumbass comment he made. He remembered wanting to beat the guy to a pulp, but only managing a few good knocks to the asshole's jaw before the coach and other teacher were ripping them apart with the help of the security guard. He remembered the amount of blood on his hands, how sick to his stomach he was.

Noah had died that day. Jake didn't believe in spiritual connections or any of that bullshit, but that was pretty fucking weird.

He shook himself from his thoughts to see Schue peering at him, studying him. "Well, what the fuck does that have to do with me not getting into Glee club?"

"It really didn't, but now… maybe." Schue stood up, crossing the room to stand next to him by the windows. "I've heard about your record. You've been pretty close to time in juvie, but you've been pretty lucky. Your brother"—Schue ignored Jake's wince—"had done some time there. It made him harder than before. And at the rate you're going, you could end up just like him."

"What, dead? I'm not stupid enough to go joyriding on a motorbike," Jake cut in.

"Maybe not joyriding, but you may pick the wrong fight and end up on the wrong side of some luck." Was Schue serious? Was he really lecturing him right now? Jake defiantly looked away from Schue, taking deep breaths to keep calm. "I know you don't want to hear what I'm saying, but you need to listen to someone. Being in Glee club changed your brother, but just being in it alone didn't save him. He was still a reckless teenager and it cost him his life.

"Now, the reason why I am telling you this now is because, for the longest time, no one listened to your brother. No one helped him until he was in jeopardy of not graduating. He was too far gone, even with the vast change for the better. But with you, it's not too late. There's still some time to turn your life off of the path that it's heading towards."

Who was this guy? He knew Jake for all of five seconds, but apparently he thought he knew Jake's life story. He was just like everyone else. Once you knew that Jake was a Puckerman it was like you knew who he was. But it wasn't. Jake wasn't just a Puckerman and why couldn't anyone see that?

_But you don't break your ass trying to disprove anyone either_, a voice piped up in the back of his head_. Even your own mom can't deal with your ass anymore._

Everything Schue was saying was true, regardless. Jake didn't even like doing all this bad stuff anyway. He only liked beating up people if they completely deserved it, but who didn't? He could just take up boxing or something to get rid of that aggression. Music relaxed him—maybe if he threw himself head first into music he'd be able to channel his energy into something good.

Jake needed a change and this was the way to do it.

"So, if you think you know me so much, then you must know why I'm fucking pissed off because I didn't make the cut," Jake spoke up after a moment of silence in a normal tone of voice with just a little edge. It would take some time to deal with Noah's death, but they better get to the matter at hand so that Jake could leave. He was itching to punch something, and pretty soon that would be Schue's face.

"Like I said," Schue began, "it wasn't set in stone. You need to work on your attitude before I let you join. Glee club is a serious thing. You're going to be performing in front of an audience of a thousand people. What if they start booing and yelling? You can't go off the deep end and start pulverizing people."

Even though everything Schue said pissed Jake off, he was level headed enough still to see that Schue was just telling him what was up, what to expect, and to see if he could handle it.

"Knowing that I can help you, that I saw the good that Glee club did to Noah, I think I can take a chance on you. But you need to get that chip off your shoulder for whatever reason it's there. Because if there's one incident, you're gonna be out before you can say 'peace out'." Jake rolled his eyes, huffing a little in annoyance. "You're really good, Jake."

And then something in Jake seemed to deflate. Schue was giving him a chance. He turned to the teacher, all traces of anger seeming to dissolve from the boy's face as he turned soft brown eyes full of hope onto Schue. "You think I'm good?"

Schue felt his heart melt a little at the sound of that tentative question. He let a small smile form on his lips, patting Jake on the shoulder. "Yeah, I really do. So, here's your official chance. Don't blow it."

Jake nodded. "Are we done now?"

Schue nodded, grabbing up the folder as Jake grabbed his backpack. "Yeah, let's go introduce you to the New Directions."

For the life of him, Jake couldn't hide the smile on his face.

* * *

Schue gives Jake an encouraging smile as they walk into the choir room. He claps Jake on the shoulder, turning to address the glee club. "Okay, let's give a big New Directions welcome to Jake Puckerman."

He sort of sounded like he was the announcer at a boxing match. Jake was almost waiting for him to continue; saying something like "are you ready to rumble", but a clap on his shoulder came from behind him, stealing his attention. It was that platinum blond kid.

"Hey, dude, your brother and I used to be best friends." He said it sadly, and the whole demeanor in the room changed, cooling a couple of degrees.

A voice rose to break the silence. "Yeah, that's great. Bring up his dead brother when we're supposed to be welcoming him." Everyone turned towards the voice. Jake saw a few shell-shocked expressions, and his eyes finally landed on the speaker. It was that boy that was crying at his audition. His tone was biting, but there was an unmistakable hurt undertone.

Jake went to blurt out that he was crying during his audition, but the boy started to speak again. He was short, but he held himself up straight. He jumped down the steps, trying to smile welcomingly at Jake, but the smile fell short. "Losing Noah was hard, but I don't need to tell you that. Anyway, let's all get happy because this is supposed to be a _club full of glee_!"

He clapped his hands, his face lighting up in fake enthusiasm. He rested his hand on Jake's shoulder, the smile a little brighter this time. "Welcome to New Directions, Jake. I'm Blaine, and this doofus is Sam." He then went through the rest of the introductions to everyone in the club. Jake managed a tiny wave, receiving half-hearted, awkward, and sheepish "hellos" in return. Jake stood there awkwardly for a few moments before Schue took some mercy on him.

"Ookayy, now that we all know each other, let's get down to business! Blaine, Sam, Jake: please take a seat. Now, the assignment for this week is—"

Jake tuned Schue out in favor of nudging Blaine, who had thankfully sat next to him. "Hey, dude, I would like to ask you—"

Blaine shot him a look before shushing him. Jake looked surprised, but he did as he was told, slumping in his seat and trying to figure out what Schue was droning on about.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

When the meeting was over, Blaine tried to slip out before Jake caught him. But Jake was paying close attention to the way Blaine had edged forward in his seat, ready to spring out of it once he had the chance. Once Blaine shifted, Jake clamped a hand on his arm and kept him seated as everyone else got up to leave. The two sat in silence until everyone had left, many of them throwing confused glances their way.

"What?" Blaine blurted once they were alone. He wouldn't look Jake in the eye, glaring down at the hand on his arm instead.

Jake retracted his hand. "Sorry, but if I didn't I wouldn't have gotten a chance to talk to you."

"And why do you need to talk to me? I don't even know you," Blaine sneered slightly. He was totally acting out of character, but Jake didn't know that. But with all the emotions swirling around in him, it didn't surprise him that he was acting this way.

He couldn't look at Jake because, now that he knew, he could see Puck all over him. The eyes, for one. He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away during the audition because of those eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look at him now because of those eyes. Eyes so much like his brother's that they seemed to taunt Blaine. That Blaine could never, ever have Noah again. His body type, too, though leaner than Noah's had been, and arm muscles that must be a Puckerman gene. Even his voice, speaking and singing alike, sounded so close to Noah's that if Blaine closed his eyes for too long he could probably fool himself that Jake_ was_ Noah, and _that_ scared him to his very core.

"Hey, relax. I just wanted to know why you were crying during my audition," Jake said easily, making Blaine flinch. Blaine was hoping that he hadn't noticed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaine defended weakly.

"Oh, but I think you do. It was just—it was _weird_, man." Jake ran a hand over his face. "I mean, I know I don't have the perfect voice that brings people to tears. What's up, man?"

Why was he being so calm about this? It was weird, and pretty fucking embarrassing. Blaine made the mistake of looking up, catching sight of those chocolate browns that he had almost come to terms that he'd never see again. The mistake broke his resolve, and Blaine let out a defeated sigh, slumping in his seat. "It wasn't you—well, I guess it kind of was. It was a great audition, it just… hit really close to home, that's all." Blaine hoped that would be enough. "Can I go now?" he borderline begged, throwing the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"Wait," Jake interjected, returning his hand to Blaine's arm to keep him in place again, but softer this time. Blaine wanted to cry from how gentle it was… like how Puck used to hold his arm when he was trying to get Blaine to talk and Blaine just wanted to flee—just like Jake was doing right now. "Why, if you don't mind me asking?" And there were those brown orbs again. Blaine was screwed.

Tears began their descent down his cheeks against Blaine's will, Jake looking slightly uncomfortable. "You are so much like your brother," Blaine whispered, making Jake frown deeply. "You have his eyes, some over his mannerisms. Not the 'badass' side." Oh, little did Blaine know just how alike they were. "His death," he almost choked on the word, "was hardest on me than any of the other members because I was… involved… with him?" Blaine finished lamely.

"You're kidding," Jake gasped. Noah was gay? Who would have thought that?

Blaine shook his head. "No, surely I'm not." Something in Blaine broke then, and he was letting the dam fully break over his face. "I-I told him that that damn bike was dangerous. I t-told him that if he wasn't c-c-careful he'd get himself… k-killed," he choked. "He-he used to sing that s-song to me, the one you sang, obnoxiously loud over whipping wind. I told him that I would never let him go, but he—that _jackass_didn't keep his end of the promise."

Blaine stopped, letting out a heart-wrenching sob. Jake awkwardly rested his hand on Blaine's back as Blaine seemed to curl around himself. But then Blaine shot up out of the chair to put distance between them. "No… I-I can't… it's too soon. If I don't stop now, I'm gonna delude myself that you're him… and that's not gonna be good. I'm sorry, I really am. But, I have to go."

Blaine rushed out of the room, but not fast enough. He heard Jake call out from behind him, "I am not my brother." Blaine felt his heart dropping to his toes. His vision blurred so severely that he tripped over a trash can and sunk to the floor. He pushed himself up to lean against the wall, letting himself break down completely for the first time since he had heard of Noah's death.

He sat there in the hallway, hunched over his knees as body wracking sobs tumbled from his mouth, for what felt like a lifetime. The halls were silent, but Noah's laughter seemed to echo around him.

Through the tears, Blaine had opened his eyes to see Noah standing over him. Noah bent down to kiss the top of Blaine's head. He was smiling.

_Don't let me go._

A rush of wind made Blaine shiver. He blinked. Noah was gone. The faint smell of cinnamon hung in the air.

_I'm trying to, you idiot_.

* * *

Jake had no idea that McKinley would introduce him to all this… mess. But Jake would give Blaine time to heal. Jake totally understood his pain, he was just keeping it at bay for the time being before he could deal with it properly. Blaine may have been closer to Noah than Jake had been, but they both felt deeply hurt by the fact that he was gone. They both had to deal with the fact that he was never coming back.

So, yes, Jake would let Blaine heal. Then he'd become friends with the boy when the hurt wasn't so deep, just a dull ache that would never fully go away. He'd love to have a piece of Noah, to get to know the kid under that reputation, and Blaine was the only one who could help him achieve that.

He believed they would both come out stronger from all of this.


End file.
